Don't Have the Patience For It Anymore

By Frank Weber

Copyright ©2025

When I was a kid – back in my late 20’s – I always wondered what exactly made an old man so much more vicious than a lot of the guys around me.

When you’re a bartender/bouncer you see a good share of both.

The old man sitting alone and looking decrepit – but content – at the end of the bar.

The ‘kids’ shooting pool and making too much noise, hoping that everyone notices them.

And when a push came to a shove, I only ever saw the old man win. As a matter of fact, I never once saw any of the ‘kids’ win over him.

And I always wondered exactly why that was so.

And then I became an old man myself.

And now I get it.

It always was, is now and always will be in your own head.

I’ve heard that philosophy all my life, and I have tried to live it, but I never truly understood it until now.

It’s all a state of mind.

It’s a matter of how you view yourself first and your situation second.

Only difference is that now, MY WELLBEING is my ONE AND ONLY CONCERN.

If you attack me, it’s all on you and you’ll get what you asked for when you attacked.

When I was a ‘kid’ – and still fresh and still learning – I did all I could to practice restraint.

Quickly and efficiently immobilize and restrain an attacker but never hurt anyone more than is absolutely necessary for you to get away alive.

I walked away from more fights than I can remember because there was no doubt in my mind that I could plant the person right there, exactly where he stood.

It was such a cliché way of thinking back then…

“There’s nothing I can do to him he hasn’t already done to himself” or “Take the higher ground and don’t fight” or “Don’t sink to their level” or “A real man just walks away”.

I used to believe in all of those things simply because that is what was drilled into me for so many years.

And I always did my best to abide by those rules.

But when everything shakes out, they’re really not much more than cliches to make someone feel better.

Still, I always kept an even keel and did ONLY what was necessary to end each instance and walk away from it. ONLY what was needed.

Even when I was attacked – and I mean a mugging type of attack that meant to do me serious bodily harm – I used restraint. It happened twice back then.

I was jumped outside of a bar called “Jimmy’s Tavern” one dark and rainy night.

If it wasn’t for the heavy leather jacket I was wearing, the knife blade would’ve cut clean down into my shoulder and chest. That one second delay gave me the chance to catch hold of the guy’s arm – and I broke it by twisting it backwards until it popped. And then I let him go.

As furious and adrenaline-pumped as I was in that moment, I stopped there because he was hurt.

I let his friend go, too…he lost all of his momentum when he saw his friend crying on the sidewalk.

I left them there. The last I ever heard of it was yelling as I walked away.

It was an immediate, quick and efficient end to the attack.

Given that the guy most likely would’ve put me in the ER (or worse) if his knife didn’t get caught, I never thought my reaction was extreme. Not for a second.

The second time it happened, I was cutting across the train tracks between bars, and it was way too late at night to even consider such a thing. It was my own fault it happened.

The guy smelled like a vagrant and fortunately for me, he only had some kind of shank – it felt like a chiseled screwdriver more than a knife – cause he hit me from behind.

This time it was the dead of summer, so I had no protection.

I ended up with a bit of a scar on the back of my left shoulder…but I left him in a pile out on the curb. Yes, even in that situation, I wanted to do ‘the right thing’.

Even though I have no doubt he would’ve either killed me or left me for dead on the tracks, I dragged and pushed him back to the road, well away from the rails…and went on with my night.

But as these oh-so-cruel years of life keep rolling on by, I lost most of those physical abilities.

It’s not about having forgotten methods.

It’s all about one physical limitation after another cropping up that damn near prevents me from executing any form of similar restraint without killing myself.

Nowadays, it comes down to the quick and efficient incapacitation and elimination of ANY threat.

Now, I just don’t have the patience for anything more than that.

Now, I just don’t care about anything more than that.

Now my belief is simple.

And not so cliché…

Attack me and I’ll make you immediately suffer and bleed for it, and without a second’s hesitation.

But it’s more than losing patience.

Now it contains a healthy dose of furious anger, too.

It’s no longer just about getting away from the fight as soon as I can.

It’s a growing spite for just the effort.

Now I know what they always meant by ‘it’s all in your head’

If I’m confronted, I can feel that fury begin to spark.

I just don’t have the patience, want or desire for any of it anymore.

That is the one, single element that makes an old man so dangerous…

He no longer cares.

He’s done enough and he’s seen enough in his lifetime.

He has no time or tolerance for some squeaky, wannabe-tough guy juvenile trying to sound like a ‘boss’.

He knows full well he can drop you where you stand, but now he’s not concerned with restraint, so he’s more likely to do exactly that.

For myself, I’m done with restraint.

If I’m attacked, my only thought is, “I will plant you where you stand and I will repel boarders”

There’s no longer a question as to whether-or-not I ‘can’

I jump straight into ‘this will end badly for you’.

All of the worst targets that I used to avoid – always kept for last-ditch survival – have become matter-of-factual.

A word of caution, though…those targets are the absolute worst feeling when they’re hit.

And I’m not the only one that knows how to use them.

I have no tolerance, patience, want or desire for any person that thinks it’s a good idea to hassle me in any way, and I return their fire just as fast and I level them just as quickly.

I’ve gone beyond that old, antiquated and clichéd kind of thinking.

I just don’t have the patience for it anymore.

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